


now and then (i get a little lost)

by sunlightdances (glowinghorizons)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Jealousy, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 20:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16772803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/sunlightdances
Summary: “Dean?”“Cassie.” Dean says, a smile forming on his lips. You smile politely at the woman, but a knot is slowly forming in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to make it go away. She’s pretty - dark skin, dark eyes and curly dark hair. Her smile is gorgeous, and when she looks at you, she doesn’t look through you, like most girls do when you’re with Dean.“If you’re in town, that can’t be good.”Dean smiles before he turns back to you. “Kid, this is Cassie.” He says, and you offer her a small smile, getting smaller when Dean doesn’t elaborate.“Nice to meet you,” she says. “Dean and I go way back.”OR:Established relationship with Dean x Reader. The two of you run into Cassie on a hunt, and seeing Dean’s ex brings up some insecurities.





	now and then (i get a little lost)

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for established relationship Dean x Reader, running into Cassie on the road for a case. Reader experiences some insecurity and feelings of anxiety after meeting Dean’s ex. Song that inspired this and used for the title is “You Save Me” by Kenny Chesney. Mild smut, Language, mentions of anxiety, feelings of insecurity, angst.

You and Dean have been on the road for hours. You’re both exhausted, and you’re searching Google Maps for a motel, any motel. Finally finding one, you give Dean directions and could weep when you finally see the glowing sign.

“Come on, let’s get a room.” He says, grabbing both your bags out of the trunk. He walks with you to the motel office, and you can see the bags under his eyes as he winces in the harsh fluorescent light.

Dean signs the receipt for the room when you hear an unfamiliar voice call his name. His head snaps up, brow furrowed.

“Dean?”

“Cassie.” Dean says, a smile forming on his lips. You smile politely at the woman, but a knot is slowly forming in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to make it go away. She’s pretty - dark skin, dark eyes and curly dark hair. Her smile is gorgeous, and when she looks at you, she doesn’t look through you, like most girls do when you’re with Dean.

“If you’re in town, that can’t be good.”

Dean smiles before he turns back to you. “Kid, this is Cassie.” He says, and you offer her a small smile, getting smaller when Dean doesn’t elaborate.

“Nice to meet you,” she says. “Dean and I go way back.” She says, both of you looking at Dean funny when he doesn’t introduce you.

“I’m his partner while Sam’s out of town.” You say, feeling a little gratified when Dean frowns. “I take it you… you know the business?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” She says. “How worried should I be? I’m writing a story on the disappearances.”

“Just stay away from the victims and we’ll give you a story to write after we take care of it.” Dean says, voice pitched low so the desk clerk can’t hear.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then. Nice meeting you.” Cassie says, before leaving the lobby.

“Friend of yours?” You ask casually. You don’t want to be that girl. You hate yourself for even being a little bit jealous, because Cassie wasn’t even coming on to Dean. She was perfectly polite and kind. 

This thing between you and Dean… it’s still new. It’s only been a few weeks since the tension ratcheted up between you two so much that in a fit of desperation, he kissed you. 

It was pretty clear he wanted you, and obviously you felt the same way, so you’ve never had a conversation about any of it. You were just _together_. It didn’t need saying.

“Uh, yeah.” Dean says, scratching his neck awkwardly. “Ex-girlfriend, actually. She’s a reporter.”

You nod. “Pretty.”

“You told her you were my partner.”

You answer his unspoken question. “What difference does it make? You weren’t really rushing to introduce me.”

“Kid…” Dean trails off. “I didn’t mean–”

“I know, I know.” You say, waving a hand around dismissively. “I’m tired. Can we just go?”

Dean watches you warily. “You sure you don’t want to–”

“Nope. No. I don’t want–” you sigh, frustrated. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just not often we go somewhere and someone knows your real name. That’s all.” 

Dean hesitates before he reaches for you, but you feel instant relief when his hand trails down your arm before grasping your fingers lightly. Dean isn’t one for PDA. You’ve known that forever. He preferred closed doors, or the comfort of the Impala. He’s different with you, though, and you take a minute to recognize that before you get too paranoid. “Let’s grab a bite and get some rest.” He tells you softly. “We’ll order a pizza.”

You smile gently. “Yeah. That sounds good. I could use a shower.” 

“I wasn’t going to say anything…” He teases, winking at you.

You roll your eyes, the uncomfortable air between you disappearing. “Shut up.”

.

.

.

Later that night, you’re sprawled on the bed in your pajamas, a half-empty pizza box a few feet away from you. Your head is on Dean’s stomach as you lay on your back, and his fingers card through your damp hair as you both watch some late night talk show. 

It’s quiet, but comfortable, and you sigh in contentment. 

“You fallin’ asleep?” He asks, his voice a low rumble. 

“Getting there.” 

He shifts slightly, but stops when you whine, missing the feeling of his fingers in your hair. “Should get under the blankets, sweetheart.” He says, and your heart does that embarrassing thing it does whenever he calls you that. “Got a long day tomorrow.” 

The two of you maneuver under the blankets and you fall asleep to the sound of Dean’s breathing and the low volume of the TV, his fingers stroking over your skin making you feel more safe than you can ever remember. It makes you feel even more dumb for having felt so insecure in front of Cassie.

.

The next day is total chaos. You wake up to Dean shaking your shoulder, the news on the small TV in the room. There’s been more disappearances overnight - this time the mayor and his secretary haven’t been seen in 24 hours, and Dean’s got that look on his face – the one you know means you have 5 minutes to get up and get dressed or else he’s leaving without you.

The research you’ve done points to vampires, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve chased a nest. You feel nervous, because you’re worried you might be rusty, but Dean talks you through his plan, always the calm one.

“It’s going to be fine. You’re going to follow my lead, and you’re going to chop the head off anything with weird teeth. You got this, kid.” He says earnestly. 

It all goes to shit, however, when you find the vamps’ nest, and Cassie is somehow there, a little worse for the wear, but not bitten. She seems to know that she’s screwed up, but you still see her shrink slightly in the face of Dean’s angry eyes. 

“All the damn times I told you not to get yourself involved, and here you are.”

“I was following a lead!” She protests.

“I told you we were in town for a reason. You should have left it alone.” 

You wince at Dean’s harsh tone, and toss Cassie a sympathetic look. She doesn’t return it, but only because her eyes haven’t left Dean’s once. They share a look, something with unspoken words, and you feel that knot in your stomach again. 

You can see it, if you look hard enough. Their shared history. It’s enough to make your anxiety skyrocket. That, coupled with the nervousness you already felt about being rusty for this hunt, and you feel yourself shrinking, wanting to just get this over with so you could get back to the bunker. 

“This is why I never bring girls with me to hunt.” Dean mutters to himself as he picks up his machete and starts cleaning it off. You know he’s just frustrated, but you feel it like a slap to the face. “Can’t do my job if all I’m doing is worrying, and–”

“Jesus, Dean.” Cassie says, her eyes on you. You can only imagine how you must look. 

Dean’s eyes snap up to yours, and his face falls. “Kid, I didn’t mean–”

You shake your head. “I know.” 

“No,” he insists, “I just–”

“It’s not a big deal. Can we just get this over with? If we counted right, there are still two vamps out there and we have to find the mayor.”

“Hey.” Dean says, his voice low as he steps closer to you. “Baby, I–”

Something inside of you snaps. You see Cassie watching you closely, and all you can think is that he’s probably called her that, too. He trusted her enough to tell her about the life, and even though you know it’s just your insecurities getting the better of you, you just hear his voice over, and over. _This is why I never bring girls with me to hunt_. How many girls has he _wanted_ to bring with him? “Dean.” You say firmly. “Not now.” 

You walk away from him before he calls after you, and you don’t look back.

.

.

.

You find the rest of the missing people and manage to behead two vamps before Dean and Cassie can even catch up to you - running on pure adrenaline and angst can do that to a person. 

“Christ, kid.” Dean breathes when he sees you, half covered in dirt and blood. 

“I’m fine.”

Dean shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, the vein in his forehead popping as he clenches his jaw. He’s getting angry, you can tell, but there’s worry there too, underneath. 

You get the people to the hospital, and drop Cassie off at her room before heading to yours, the ride tense and uncomfortable. 

“I need to say something.” Dean says as he sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands together, and you almost groan, because you don’t want to hear that he didn’t mean anything by it, that he can’t help it, that Cassie is someone from his past and he can’t just turn that part of him off that always, always cares about people. You don’t want to hear it because you know it’s true. Dean has never lied to you, and you _know_ it’s your insecurities making you crazy. You just hate feeling this way. You’re so unsure of yourself.

“I need to take a shower–”

“It can wait.” He says, and then he’s reaching for you, pulling you until you’re straddling him. “I’m sorry.” He says, his eyes earnest. “I shouldn’t have said that I never want girls with me when I hunt. It wasn’t true and it was stupid. I was upset that Cassie went off alone.”

“I know.” You say quietly. 

“No, _listen_.” He implores you. “I’m not–” he shakes his head, frustrated with himself. “You’re the best fucking part of me, you know that?” He asks, and you go still with shock. “I’m not the best at talking about how I’m feeling, and I know that’s hard sometimes. I’m sorry about that. I need you to know… you saved me, kid.” His voice is rough. Your heart is pounding.

“There is no one else I trust other than Sam to have my back, in the field and out. You’re such a badass, sweetheart, and you don’t see it. I wish you did. I know I don’t help anything when I say stupid shit, and I’m sorry.” 

You feel like you want to cry, and you’re mad that he’s making you feel like this, but also grateful. “No one’s ever…” you trail off, trying to find your words. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me.” 

“There’s more.” Dean says, smiling gently at you. “You never, _ever_ have to be jealous.”

You try to squirm away from him, but he doesn’t let you.

“ _Hey_. It’s okay. I get it. I need you to know that the way I feel about you… it doesn’t compare to anything else I’ve had with anyone else. I was with Cassie when I was young and trying to act like I could run away from my Dad and my life. I was a really different person back then.”

“Dean–” You’re crying now, and you… you don’t know. You want him to stop, but also keep going. You’re not sure what. 

“I’m in love with you.” He tells you, his voice gentle and soft, and so, _so_ wrecked with emotion. “I’m in love with you for a thousand reasons, and you have to know that there’s not going to be a damn person who’s going to come along and make me forget all that.”

Your forehead finds his shoulder as you cry in earnest now, silent tears rolling down your cheeks as you’re hit full force by how much this man cares about you. You want to tell him that you feel the same way, that you’re so into him it’s almost worrying. You can’t find the words, though, and he seems to understand.

“Say something, baby.” He says softly.

“I–” you take a deep breath, trying to get your bearings. “I’ve never had anyone care about me like you do. You and Sam… you’re all I’ve got, really. I just get so paranoid that you’re going to leave me like everyone else has. I don’t mean to get jealous or insecure, it just happens, and even when I _know_ how stupid I’m acting, I can’t help it.” 

Before the words can leave your mouth, Dean’s kissing you, and you melt into him when you feel his large hands cradle your face, his thumbs rubbing away your tears. He kisses you with something like desperation, but it’s also so soft and gentle you can’t help but sigh. 

“I promise, I’m not going anywhere. You understand?” He must not see what he’s looking for on your face, because he continues, “You are enough. You _are_ , kid. I swear.” 

You feel like crying again, so you kiss him instead, and he holds you so tight you almost can’t breathe. Instead of feeling suffocated, you feel safe, and at home, and everything you feel too shy to tell Dean to his face. 

“Let me show you.” He whispers when you break apart, and you nod frantically, wanting nothing more than to be near him right now. His lips find your jaw, and you tilt your head back, letting your emotions take over as you just _feel._ “That’s it, baby.” He encourages you, his hands sliding over your skin easily. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

Without warning, Dean picks you up and heads to the bathroom, and you laugh breathlessly against his skin. 

He grins. “I love that sound.”

“Don’t drop me.” You say, trying to sound threatening. 

“Trust me, sweetheart.” His lips find your neck again as he reaches behind you for the shower, turning it on warm enough to steam up the room. 

He takes his time washing you both, his hands both getting the dirt and grime from the hunt off you, but also uses his hands to work you up even more, trying to see what kind of sounds he can elicit from you as he sets your nerves on fire slowly. 

When he finally enters you, it’s slow. He takes his time, whispering a mixture of sweet and filthy things in your ear. He tells you how good you feel, how it feels like you were made for him. He tells you how he wants to fuck you, how he wants to make you scream, and in the same breath tells you he’s going to take his time and worship you.

It’s sensory overload, and you love it. You feel so loved, so cherished, and all your anxiety from the past two days is gone as soon as he starts thrusting, setting a steady rhythm. 

“God, I love you,” He tells you finally, and that’s what sends you careening into your orgasm, Dean not far behind. 

Your hands and knees shake as you try to regain your balance, and he’s panting against your skin as he keeps you upright with a strong arm around your waist. 

“Love you,” you whisper. “You should know that by now, too.” You tell him, and watch as his entire face lights up as he smiles at you.

“I know. It’s nice to hear, though.” He grins at you, kissing your temple, and you huff out a laugh, feeling better and more content than you have in months.


End file.
